So by now, y’all know I’m from the South.
My family has a Christmas tradition, that consists of the following:
- Chitlin dinner hosted at my aunt’s house on Christmas Eve (if you don’t know what chitlins are, I promise, there’s an explanation below)
- Half of the family complaining about the smell the whole time they are at dinner
- Half of the family eating heartily of the cholesterol-laden foods (I’m in this category)
- Everyone goes home and puts any clothes they were wearing immediately in the washer or, if they’ve traveled, into a plastic bag before they put them in their suitcases.
Chitlins, as my family calls them, are actually pronounced “chitterlings” and they are pig intestines.
No, that is not a typo, my dear non-southerners.
Uh uh. No.
Chitlins aka chitterlings aka pig intestines aka “shitlings” – because, that, my dear, is what the house smells like when you make them.
Smell, complaints and all, it’s a Christmas tradition.
Call us crazy or call us for a plate!
I’ll enjoy the meal…and, possibly, work out in the morning. *big grin*